


Cursed

by Destielshipper4Cas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Barebacking, Bottom Castiel, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, First Time, Happy Ending, Healer Castiel, Human Dean, M/M, Omega Castiel, Omega Verse, Pining, Spells & Enchantments, Strangers to Lovers, Top Dean, Witch Castiel, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:20:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28631634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destielshipper4Cas/pseuds/Destielshipper4Cas
Summary: Dean’s dick has been cursed and Castiel, best healer witch this side of the woods, is the only one who can help. Only lifting the curse turns out to be more difficult than expected.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 713
Kudos: 920





	1. Chapter 1

As the town healer, Castiel was used to a lot of weird requests. Humans got themselves into all kinds of predicaments. He’d had to mix salves and prepare healing potions for everything from rashes in unusual places to bites by enchanted gargoyles. Once, he even had a mother with a little girl come in because the girl had a fairy stuck in her ear.

But nothing topped the day a ruggedly handsome alpha with an earthy, leathery scent knocked on the door to his cabin. Castiel had never seen him before, and a look at the license plate number of his car revealed that he was from out of town.

“I need a counter curse,” the alpha stated gruffly as soon as Castiel let him in.

Castiel could do nothing but blink at him. While he didn’t deny that he was a witch, he didn’t exactly advertise it either. Most people were just happy that his tinctures worked and didn’t question it.

The alpha seemed agitated, so Castiel dispensed a little bit of calming energy into the air.

That seemed to do the trick.

Taking a deep breath, the alpha started, “A witch cursed my…” He trailed off and pointedly looked down his body.

When he didn’t say anything else, Castiel was forced to guess, following his line of sight, “Your stomach?”

“No.”

“Your legs?”

“My _dick_ , okay? A witch cursed my dick.”

“Oh.” Despite himself, Castiel’s eyes were drawn to the alpha’s crotch. He quickly looked back up at his face. “That’s… that’s an unusual curse.” He had to have really antagonized that witch.

“No shit,” the alpha mumbled.

Priding himself on always staying professional, he gathered his wits and asked, “What kind of curse was it?”

Maybe there were warts all over his private parts. Castiel had a flask of anti-wart cream left that would take care of any kind of warts, magical ones included. Where had he put it again? Maybe next to his vial of valerian root oil.

What he wasn’t prepared for, was for the alpha to declare, “That bitch hexed me impotent. The last two times I tried to fu— _be_ with an omega, it stayed limp. Completely useless.”

Castiel had to have stared for a bit too long because the alpha ran a hand through his hair with a sigh and went on, “Look—you gotta help me out here, man. I like sex, okay? I can’t give up sex _forever_.”

“No, of course. I’m sure you’re very sexy. I mean, sex-starved.” What was he _saying_?! He wasn’t the best at human interactions, but even he usually got through a conversation without making a complete fool of himself. “I mean… I’ll help you. Do you remember the exact wording of the curse?”

The alpha shook his head. “It was in some weird-ass language.”

“Okay, in that case…” Castiel went to his shelf with anti-curse lotions and picked out the correct one. Not that it was one for malfunctioning penises, mind you, but it should take care of the alpha’s problem anyway.

He handed the lotion to the alpha and instructed him, “Rub it on your… affected area once a day and try… uhm…” He did his best not to blush as he continued, “…pleasuring yourself. It might not work the first few days, but after a week or so, your…” He motioned towards his crotch so that he didn’t need to find an acceptable term. “…should be as good as new.”

“A week?” the alpha repeated. “I thought you’d say some kind of spell, and I’d be good to go.”

“I could do that… If I knew what the witch who cursed you said.”

“Well, okay. Guess I can go another week without. Thanks for this.” The alpha shook the small bottle to underline his point. “What do I owe ya?”

“One good deed.”

“Excuse me?”

“A good deed,” Castiel repeated. “However small or big is up to you. Just some random act of kindness is enough. Help an old lady carry her shopping bags, offer an honest smile to someone who needs it, compliment a stranger… I’m sure you can think of something.”

“You’ve got a nice scent,” the alpha said with a smile that was closer to a teasing smirk. Then he added, “Does that count?”

“No, I don’t count. Also, it’s not supposed to be an _empty_ compliment.”

“Hey, that wasn’t empty!” the alpha protested. But he seemed to accept Castiel’s stipulations, and after a moment, he asked, “You sure that’s all you want? I’d probably give you my first born for this.”

Of course, Castiel was sure, and so they bid farewell to each other and Castiel watched him leave, never expecting to see him ever again.

Thus, it was quite a surprise when he did see him again.

Exactly one week later, the alpha was back on his doorstep.

“It’s not working,” he declared by way of greeting.

That was the first time since Castiel had settled down here some 20 years ago that an unhappy customer returned to complain.

“Did you pay the price?” Castiel asked.

“I raked leaves for Mrs. Tillman, donated old blankets to an animal shelter, bought coffee for the beta behind me in line at my coffee shop, and saved a family from a… rabid dog.”

That last one didn’t sound like he was being completely honest, but Castiel doubted the alpha had just made all of that up, and one good deed would have been plenty enough.

So, that left him with… “Did you follow my instructions?”

“Yeah. Rub it on, try to beat one off. It’s not that complicated.”

“Hmmm… It has to have been a more powerful curse than I assumed…” Castiel mumbled, trying to figure out why his lotion wouldn’t have worked. At a loss for what else to do, he suggested, “Maybe you should apologize for whatever made that witch curse you, and she will lift the curse.”

“Yeah, that’s not possible. I… don’t really know where she is. Can’t you do some witch mojo thing?”

“Well…” In order for that to work, he had to know more about that curse. “I would have to examine the… cursed area.”

The alpha’s eyes widened at that. “You want to look at my junk?”

“Look, yes. Although I doubt looking would suffice.”

“You want to _touch_ my junk?!” The alpha’s voice got rather close to a squeak.

“Not touch, no. Scent. Only if you want me to find out what kind of curse she used on you, of course.”

And that’s how Castiel ended up on his knees in front of a half-naked alpha, staring intently at his penis in an attempt to pick up on traces of magic. It was an alpha penis all right. Even limp as it was, its size was rather impressive. Castiel could just imagine what it looked like erect.

“Okay, seriously. Way to make a guy feel self-conscious.”

Oh, right. He had been told his staring could come across as creepy.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and got on with it, scenting in the direction of the penis to get a better understanding of the kind of magic involved.

Of course, that was rather difficult, seeing as the alpha’s own scent was overpowering. Ignoring it in favor of tracing the magic almost seemed impossible. He gave his best, though.

It might have been revenge—maybe the alpha had broken the witch’s heart.

“I’m Dean, by the way. You know, since you’re scenting my dick and all. I figure that puts us on a first name basis.”

“Castiel,” he replied, a bit distracted because he had to concentrate on sniffing out the magic.

“Yeah, I know. Did my research. I don’t just let anyone near my dick.”

It really had to be a powerful curse. The magic was clutching at him, trying to reel him in and—

_He took the head of the alpha’s cock into his mouth, tasting it greedily, feeling it fill out as he stimulated it with little licks._

_Dean moaned, “Cas!” and rocked forward, shoving his cock into his mouth, leaving Castiel no choice but to suck it, and inevitably get a load of jizz shot down his throat._

“You okay?”

He came out of the vision with a start. It had been a long time since he’d had one that vivid. He could still feel the dick slide into his throat, taste the musky alpha flavor of pre-come on his lips and tongue. Or maybe it hadn’t been a vision at all and the curse just wanted him to lick that dick that was hanging in front of his face.

“No. I mean yes. Why wouldn’t I be okay? I think I know now what will help you.” He actually had no clue, but he couldn’t stay on his knees in licking distance of Dean’s dick, so he got up and took a few steps away, busying himself with going through his shelves.

He would just give Dean his most powerful purifying bath oils (even though they were very difficult to make), tell him the steps he had to take to complete the ritual, and that would be it. He probably should have done that to begin with. The curse that couldn’t be counteracted by that ritual had yet to be invented, so he was confident that this time around, Dean would leave a satisfied customer.

“Bye, Cas,” Dean said at the door.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

It wasn’t until the alpha had driven away that the full impact of what he had said hit him: _Cas_.

He recognized it as a shortened version of his name. No one had ever called him that. Until today, when he had heard it twice.

It seemed like he would see Dean again some day. After all, visions tended to come true more often than not.


	2. Chapter 2

This time, Castiel wasn’t surprised when Dean showed up at his cabin late one night. After all, they were bound to meet again since his visions had never been wrong. What _was_ surprising was that the curse still hadn’t been lifted.

“I’m sure you’ll get cured eventually,” Castiel tried to reassure him. Of course, he knew that for a fact, but he couldn’t very well tell Dean that he’d seen himself perform oral sex on him and that the alpha’s penis had worked just fine then. Or rather was _going to_ work just fine then. Whenever the vision would come to be.

“Oh, well, as long as you’re sure, I have nothing to worry about,” Dean grumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm so that even Castiel picked up on it. A moment later, the alpha sighed and said, “Sorry, just… I’m horny all the time and I can’t get off, which _sucks_. And not in the good way.”

Maybe the alpha needed more reassurance than a hunch from a witch he didn’t even really know, so Castiel gave him part of the truth, “I get visions sometimes. They always come true. You’re going to be fine.”

There was a beat of silence in which Dean just stared at him, and Castiel tried to figure out why his attempt at cheering the alpha up might not have worked as intended.

“You had a vision of my dick?” Dean finally asked.

Oh. Yes, Castiel assumed that might sound weird to a human. Like somehow, Castiel had been spying on him having sex—even though, of course, Dean had been having sex with _him_. Was _going to_ have sex with him… Keeping the timelines straight with visions was confusing, even for a witch.

“Well, not specifically of your dick as much as…” Okay, yes, it had been of his dick, and there was no way Castiel could end that sentence now without making it worse. (Like, “…as much as of me _sucking_ your dick.”)

So, instead, he started anew, “The point is, the curse didn’t keep you from getting… erect in my vision. Therefore, you’ll be fine.”

Dean sauntered over to the chair next to the potion table, turned it around so that the back faced Castiel, and straddled it, eyebrows raised. “Yeah, I’m gonna have to know more about that vision. Like, how far in the future we talkin’?”

Great. Now Dean wanted to know details about the vision that Castiel had masturbated to multiple times since his last visit. The one that still made him lick his lips involuntarily. (He wasn’t proud of it, but the vision had been the best porn movie and it certainly hadn’t been easy to ignore.)

“I don’t think it’s far into the future,” he replied since Dean was still looking at him expectantly. “You looked the same, I’d say. You were even wearing the same shirt, which probably doesn’t say a lot since you also had it on the last time we met, so I’m assuming it’s one of your favorites?”

Dean smiled at that. “Yeah, it’s my lucky shirt.” The smile turned more into a smirk before he added, “So, you’re saying chances are I’m getting laid tonight?”

“Well, I… I wouldn’t know… I mean… It depends… If you’re wearing that shirt a lot… Doesn’t have to mean _tonight_ …”

He really hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt because if it was, there was no way Dean wouldn’t figure out just who he’d had sex with in that vision.

The twinkle in Dean’s eyes told him it was too late for any kind of subterfuge. Might as well go all in. “But we could give it a try. See if I can help you with your problem.”

Even though he had the security of his vision, waiting for Dean’s reply was still nerve-racking. Was he being too forward? Was tonight not the night of his vision?

“That’d be great. Just… no judgment if it doesn’t work, okay?”

That’s how Castiel found himself on his knees in front of this alpha for the second time within just a few days. And for the second time, he sucked that cock to hardness—only this time for real.

Ha! He had known his purifying oils would do the trick! All the alpha had needed in addition was an omega’s gentle mouth teasing his cock a bit.

Dean started moaning as if he was a virgin alpha in rut getting his very first blowjob, his hips thrusting slightly as he worked his cock slowly down Castiel’s throat.

Since the real deal was a thousand times more erotic than witnessing it through a vision, Castiel’s ass started slicking like crazy and his own dick was demanding attention. But this was about Dean for now, so Castiel ignored both his ass _and_ his dick in favor of relaxing his throat so that the alpha could do what nature dictated.

“Oh, God yeah!” Dean said, sliding in and out of Castiel’s throat, occasionally panting, “Cas!” when he slid in especially deep.

Fondling the alpha’s heavy balls, Castiel tried to coax them into releasing the sperm inside of them.

He was rewarded when Dean started fucking his face more roughly before gripping his head to hold him still and coming all the way down his throat, pumping a warm flood of thick come straight into his belly. Obviously, this alpha had been really pent up for a long time, considering the amount of spunk he had just dumped into him.

Castiel licked him clean, satisfied that he had been able to lift the curse. Other parts of him weren’t as satisfied, though.

“Maybe there are specific sexual acts she cursed you to be unable to perform,” he suggested.

A few minutes later, Dean’s cock was plunging in and out of his asshole while Castiel was holding on to the bedframe, barely hanging on while being fucked so vigorously that he had trouble keeping his ass up. Apparently, the curse had not affected Dean’s refractory period.

The alpha grunted, his hands firmly grasping Castiel’s hips and his thrusts shaking the whole bed.

 _Yes!_ This was an alpha who hadn’t been able to come inside of an omega’s ass in long enough that he just wanted to _fuck_ no holds barred.

Castiel felt his insides tighten with pleasure. Dean’s knot was quickly swelling against his ass and when the alpha touched his rock-hard cock, Castiel couldn’t hold on any longer and spent himself all across the bed.

A moment later, he could feel Dean’s come filling his belly once more, this time from the other end, as the alpha pushed in harshly one last time and knotted him.

“That’s… obviously working as well,” Castiel commented.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed and placed a kiss on his shoulder blade.

⁂

Since his vision had come true, Castiel had no idea if he would ever see Dean again. After all, the curse had been lifted and there was no reason for the alpha to come back to his neck of the woods.

When there was a knock on his door a couple of days later, his mood picked up immediately and he rushed to the door…

Only to be greeted by Hannah, a fellow witch and dear friend from the other side of the forest.

“Oh. It’s you.”

“And hello to you, Castiel.”

Hannah knew he wasn’t great at social interactions, so she never took a social faux-pas on his part personally. Instead, she stepped inside and began, “I came to warn you. I am sure you have heard about Alfie. But he is not the only one.”

“The only one what?”

Town gossip usually reached him sooner rather than later, but he had been preoccupied lately, his thoughts circling back to a certain alpha. In addition to that, only Old Gentle Joe had come by for his usual bag of honey, but no one had gotten into any kind of trouble that required his help. His people skills tended to become rusty when he didn’t get regular visitors.

“Oh. You _haven’t_ heard. I am so sorry. He is dead.”

“What?”

Alfie had been but a witch in training—young, and with a long life ahead of him. Balthazar had been his mentor.

Castiel had only visited them a few weeks back to trade for some rarer herbs. Everything had seemed so normal.

“Balthazar has to be devastated,” he mumbled.

“Balthazar is dead, too,” Hannah said without inflection. “Alfie is the third witch who was killed with his own witch blade. A hunter, no doubt. You should renew your wards.”

“I will. Thank you for warning me.”

After Hannah left, he sat down as if in trance. Balthazar and Alfie hadn’t deserved an end like this.

⁂

Castiel had been out all day searching for objects imbued with magic at a market three towns over. All he had to show for was an old oil lamp that had once been home to a genie. Better than nothing. But there wasn’t much magic left.

When he walked up to his cabin, he noticed the car first. It was hard to miss, after all.

He scented the air, and sure enough, he would recognize that scent anywhere. He felt a smile spread across his face—the first genuine one since he had heard about Alfie and Balthazar—and he walked faster.

Dean was leaning against the door of his car, hands in his pockets, and a smile of his own playing around his lips when he saw him approach. “Hey, Cas.”


	3. Chapter 3

“But I thought we lifted the curse.” Castiel was staring at Dean’s (regrettably fully-clothed) crotch in the hope that what Dean had told him would suddenly make sense.

“Yeah, well, what can I tell ya,” Dean said with a careless shrug. “Didn’t work back home.”

For some reason, Dean didn’t seem all that concerned this time around. Maybe he was starting to trust that Castiel would be able to help. If only Castiel were as confident in his own magical abilities.

Still. It just didn’t make any sense. “You got an erection easily enough and came inside of me twice,” he pointed out.

A teasing smirk flitted across Dean’s face as he said, voice laced with mirth, “Yeah, I did.” His eyebrows did a weird mating dance, which made Castiel squint at him in order to figure out the secret meaning behind the alpha’s behavior.

Strange non-verbal messages aside, there really was nothing else they could do but experiment around in order to find the underlying cause of why Dean still wasn’t able to get hard on his own.

Of course, the experiment ended with Dean’s (very hard) cock pounding him into the mattress once more. Getting hard enough to fuck him obviously wasn’t the problem. Neither was stamina since they changed positions a couple of times. Finally, Castiel was on his back and somewhere along the way, they had started making out while Dean was lazily thrusting into him.

With Dean all around him and inside of him, Castiel felt the pleasure build, curling his toes and making his body spasm as a powerful orgasm washed over him.

Dean never stopped kissing him as his body stiffened and he bucked into Castiel, forcing his cock even deeper into him. With a roar, the alpha filled him with his hot come.

It seemed like they could also eliminate problems ejaculating.

The last time after they had been intimate, Dean had gotten out of bed as soon as his knot had gone down. It had been more of a ‘Thanks for the fuck, I’ll be on my way’ kind of thing. That seemed to be Dean’s style. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would hang around for too long. He had appeared out of nowhere—it was just logical that he would disappear just as quickly.

This time, though, Dean didn’t leave after they had copulated. Instead, they were lying in bed together and Dean kept stroking his arms, which felt nice. Really nice. Maybe he was staying for another round. It would make sense since he was only able to reach orgasm with Castiel.

“What’s with the strange signs?” Dean asked, indicating the walls Castiel had spent hours drawing sigils on.

“I had to strengthen my wards. There seems to be a hunter on the prowl for witches.”

Dean tensed up at that and his hand stopped stroking him. “Oh?”

“Don’t worry, these sigils keep out anyone who wants to do me harm.” When Dean didn’t say anything, he hastened to add, “Not that you would be worried about me. I just meant…”

“Course I’d be worried,” Dean interrupted him, resuming his petting.

Castiel felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips, but before it could blossom into a real one, full of heartfelt happiness, Dean continued, “Who else would fix my dick?”

Right. That’s why Dean was here after all.

And that’s why he kept coming back over the following days and weeks.

There were never any problems that Castiel could see when they were sleeping together, but without fail, Dean would turn up at his cabin again with the same complaint: The curse was still going strong.

The thing was, Castiel wasn’t all that motivated to find a way to lift it. He tried a few things, but mostly, Dean’s dick just ended up in his ass again (or in his mouth or rubbing against Castiel’s) and they had to conclude that the curse still didn’t affect his ability to have sex with Castiel.

Twice more, Dean came by when he was out, and so Castiel suggested they exchange phone numbers so that he could call ahead.

“You have a cell phone?!” Dean asked, flabbergasted.

“Why wouldn’t I have a cell phone? I might be a witch, but a witch in the 21st century. Did you think I still use ravens?”

“Could have said something sooner,” Dean grumbled, but from then on, he did call ahead when he wanted to stop by.

Sometimes, he even called for unrelated reasons, like, _“Did I leave my watch at your place?”_ or _“I lost my watch. Can you conjure up a new one?”_ After Castiel answered his questions (No on both counts), they would just keep talking for a while since there was no sense in just hanging up after a five-second phone call.

Meanwhile, his wards seemed to be working fine. But maybe the hunter had simply moved on, since no other witch had turned up dead. Of course, every witch in the vicinity had reinforced their wards, so chances were the hunter was simply out of luck.

Only, hunters didn’t give up easily, and no one could stay inside their warded houses forever.

 _“I doubt that you have anything to fear from a hunter,”_ Dean said one night when they were talking on the phone—Castiel wasn’t quite sure why Dean had called this time. The alpha had pretty much just said hello and they had started talking. After a while, Castiel had mentioned off-handedly that Hannah was still reluctant to leave her house, so here Dean was, probably trying to reassure him. _“I mean, most of them have a code and don’t just kill any witch they come across. Only… you know, the murderous ones who eat pups for breakfast.”_

That was just typical for a human to think. “Hunters tend to measure everything by the same broomstick,” he told Dean.

_“Yeah, I don’t think that’s an expression.”_

“They see a non-human creature and immediately kill it because they think it’s evil,” Castiel insisted.

There was a short pause. _“Prejudiced much?”_ Dean then mumbled.

“Exactly!” Castiel agreed. “They are very prejudiced.”

Just then, a shadow flitted past the window. He’d seen it before. But only ever out of the corner of his eye. He’d felt its presence before, too. But only as through a veil.

“I need to go. I think someone from the other side is trying to get in contact with me.”

He might have tried a séance after Balthazar’s death. It hadn’t worked, but if Balthazar wanted to talk to him now, he should be ready.

 _“A ghost?”_ Dean asked.

He almost sounded concerned, but Castiel didn’t have time for humans and their squeamish attitudes concerning apparitions right now. So, he quickly said his goodbyes.

Not quickly enough, as it turned out. By the time he had hung up, there was no trace of a shadow from another realm to be seen. Perhaps the wards were too strong. Lowering them might allow entry to ghosts, but who knew what else might come in.

Later that same night, Dean showed up with the explanation that ghosts could be dangerous. Apparently, he was there to make sure Castiel was safe.

“That is very sweet of you, and not to undermine your… alphaness, but I’m a witch and could probably protect you better than you could protect me.”

“Yeah, still. I’d feel better if you’d let me hang around.”

Castiel looked the alpha up and down. Maybe he was in the mood for sex and this was just an excuse. Although, he’d never needed an excuse before. Most of the time, he just started kissing Castiel as a greeting and then proceeded to seduce him with a simple touch here and there until his omega had no choice but to succumb to his wily charms.

There was no way he could deny the alpha anyway, not when he was the only one capable of getting him off. That would just be cruel.

Naturally, he did end up with a load of Dean’s spunk in his ass, but that couldn’t have been the alpha’s only reason to visit him since he stayed the night.

He even fell asleep right next to him, arm still slung across Castiel’s chest in an almost possessive manner, one leg wedged between Castiel’s own. He should feel crowded, but for some reason, he didn’t.

On the contrary, he really liked watching Dean sleep, wondering what he might be dreaming about. The alpha looked so peaceful and beautiful that Castiel couldn’t help but snuggle against him and sneak a whiff from his scent gland.

That’s when his eyes rolled back in his head as another vision struck him.

_Dean. In a fight with a woman. Movements too quick to follow._

More pictures flashed by, too fast for Castiel to make sense of.

_A blade to her throat, a scream. Silence. Blood._

A hunter doing his job.

_A blade in his chest. Unspeakable pain. Castiel gasping for air._

Gasping for air, Castiel clawed at his chest, trying to get a blade out that wasn’t there… yet.


	4. Chapter 4

A hunter!

Dean was a _hunter_! Who had deceived him from the moment he had come to his door, pretending to be an innocent victim of a witch’s curse.

He had known exactly what to say and do to worm his way into Castiel’s life (and maybe even a small part of his heart).

How was that even possible? Castiel was good at picking up on evil intentions.

Okay, that might be an embellishment. He had been told on many an occasion that he only ever saw the good in people, leaving him vulnerable to exploitation. As a young witch, he had been roommates with a reaper who had been plotting to kill him in his sleep.

But he had learned his lesson and wasn’t as trusting as he used to be. Plus, his sigils were supposed to keep people with ill intentions out.

So, why was there a hunter who was going to kill him asleep in his bed?! Somehow, Dean had managed to bypass his wards. Since when were hunters able to do that?

Here’s what Castiel should be doing: kill Dean before Dean could go all hunter on him and kill _him_. Right now, the alpha was asleep, clueless to the fact that his true nature had been revealed to Castiel in a vision. He could do it quick, before Dean knew what hit him, avenging Balthazar and Alfie in the process. After all, with hunters, it was kill or be killed.

Unfortunately, in his case, it was apparently ‘be killed.’ Up till now, his visions had always come true. Which meant that even if he tried to kill Dean, he would inevitably fail—thus rendering any attempt futile.

As if the alpha had sensed that he had been found out, he slowly blinked his eyes open.

There was no way Castiel could deal with him right now without giving himself away.

Luckily, he still had some sand he had acquired from a friendly sandman lying around. He snatched the little spell bag out of the bottom drawer of his nightstand, took a handful of sand out and blew it in Dean’s face.

The alpha coughed a few times, and when the dust had settled, he said, “What the hell?”

Oh. Wrong bag. This was just regular sand. Dean was still very much awake, now more so than before.

Where had he put the magic sand again?

“Seriously, what the hell?” Dean repeated since Castiel still hadn’t answered him. “This some kind of weird witch thing?”

“Oh, no. No, no, no. I wouldn’t say that. As a matter of fact, I would hardly even consider myself a witch. I’m more like a human with slightly witchy tendencies. Not worth mentioning. Did I ever tell you that my great-grandmother was a human?”

The way Dean was looking at him told him he wasn’t fooling anyone. Finally, Dean said, “You’re being weird. Come lie back down.”

The vision had been all jumbled up, but one thing Castiel knew was that he hadn’t been in bed when it happened, so technically, he should be safe in his own bed. If he declined, it would only serve to make Dean suspicious, so he did as Dean had suggested and crawled back under the covers.

Unfortunately, some things were harder to conceal.

“Why do you smell freaked out?” Dean asked as he put his arms around him.

“The ghost,” Castiel said, hoping the excuse would be good enough for a seasoned hunter. “There is a ghost after me, of course I smell a bit apprehensive.”

“Hey, I’m here,” Dean said. “I’ll protect you.”

Right. Dean was probably here to keep Balthazar’s ghost from exposing him. Kill him for the second time as it were.

The weirdest thing was that the way Dean slipped his arms around his waist and pulled him closer didn’t freak him out. It absolutely should. You didn’t just snuggle with your mortal enemy.

Maybe he felt safe because he knew this wasn’t where it would happen. Or maybe his body had just become accustomed to cuddles from Dean since they always did that after intercourse. It was an instinctual reaction, leaning into it, letting himself be held.

Come to think of it, Dean hadn’t killed him yet, even though Castiel had been in vulnerable positions in his presence before, namely on his knees in front of the alpha or with his back turned to him, presenting…

Obviously, Dean still needed him to lift the curse. Which meant that for tonight, at least, he was safe. Tomorrow, he could come up with a plan…

⁂

Waking up next to a hunter who would rather see your species extinct needed some getting used to.

At least, Dean was still asleep, which gave Castiel time to weigh his options.

First things first. He had been too shocked when the vision had hit him out of nowhere to pay close attention to what had been going on. As luck would have it, with Dean lying right next to him, he could try to get another vision straight from the source.

This time, he was prepared. This time, he would be vigilant and take note of where he was… _when_ he was. After all, knowledge was power, and he needed to know when to expect an attack. It might never have happened before, but Castiel was determined to try and prevent this particularly vision from coming true.

That’s why he reached out and touched Dean, careful not to wake the hunter.

Nothing.

Last time, the scent had triggered his vision, so Castiel scooted closer and sought out Dean’s scent gland, softly brushing against it with his nose.

The alpha sighed in his sleep, but still no vision. (Although, annoyingly enough, he smelled delicious as always.)

Basically climbing on top of Dean, he started scenting him more aggressively, slipping his hands underneath his shirt for some skin-on-skin contact. Come on, vision!

Oops, all the touching and scenting might not have been as subtle as he had hoped. Dean was looking up at him. It seemed like Castiel had woken the sleeping bear. Who knew what might happen next…

“Morning sunshine,” Dean mumbled, voice rough with sleep, and promptly started scenting him, too. As if a morning scenting was what Castiel had been going for here.

Actually, that suited him fine. If Dean thought they were just scenting for a bit, Castiel could continue his attempt to trigger a vision without tipping the hunter off.

Touching every part of Dean’s body didn’t lead to a vision. It did get Dean to touch him all over in return, though. And that somehow led to them rubbing their erections together and before you knew it, Dean was lazily fucking into him again.

Maybe that wasn’t such a bad tactic, either. It would remind Dean of the fact that Castiel was the only one he could have sex with. Surely, he didn’t want to kill the only person on earth he could have sex with.

Yes, having lots of sex with Dean seemed like a very good plan indeed. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Maybe that was Dean’s plan, too. Yes, he was on to him now. All the calls for no reason at all? Seemed like he had finally found the reason.

Keeping Dean close wasn’t a problem since he didn’t drive off again, but just stuck around. After all, the ghost hadn’t shown itself again—or at least, that was Dean’s excuse.

His mind kept coming back to something Dean had said about hunters only killing murderous witches. Maybe he could convince Dean yet that there was no hunt for him here.

In the meantime, the question remained whether he should tell anyone in the magical community about what he had found out. Hannah would no doubt like to know. But first, he had to make sure Dean was really the one who had killed Alfie and Balthazar. Granted, the odds of _two_ hunters going around killing witches in the vicinity of their sleepy little town were not very high. But if he just ratted Dean out, the alpha might have to endure worse curses than the one he was already under.

So, for now, he’d keep it to himself and investigate on his own.

As a first step, Castiel had to get Dean to admit that he was a hunter.

An opportunity presented itself when they were sitting at the breakfast table and Dean declared that he’d stay as long as it took to ‘protect’ him from the ghost.

“What about your job?” Castiel asked. “Can you just take time off?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” was Dean’s evasive answer before he stuffed another forkful of pancakes in his mouth.

It seemed like he had to come at it from another angle. “If the ghost comes back, you won’t be of much help. You know, since you are just a _normal_ human.”

A noncommittal hum was the only response he got this time.

“With no ties _whatsoever_ to the supernatural,” Castiel added for good measure.

Dean swallowed down his mouthful and conceded, “I wouldn’t say _no_ ties.”

A _ha_! Now they were getting somewhere.

“I mean, I know _you_ ,” Dean continued with playfully raised eyebrows. “And we’ve been _tied_ a lot lately.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. Was this human seriously trying to flirt with him right now?!

Well, two could play at that game. “You know I always enjoy your knot in my ass.”

Dean, who had just taken a sip of his orange juice, started coughing and slapping his chest.

Knowing that he wouldn’t choke to death (he had been just fine in his vision), Castiel just patiently waited him out.

“No, I’m fine. No need to worry. Please don’t get up or anything,” Dean rasped when he finally got his breathing under control.

They mostly ate in silence after that, Dean probably plotting his next move, Castiel trying to figure out what that next move might be. The alpha definitely seemed deep in thought. He was plotting something all right. If only Castiel were able to read minds. He had heard of witches who had that power.

Finally, when they had finished their pancakes, Dean cleared his throat and said, “Tonight’s supposed to be a supermoon. All round, and big, and… y’know, beautiful. And I read something… I mean, witches like that kind of thing, right? Boosts their powers or whatever? Anyway, I thought we might… you know. Check that out.”

And just like that he took Castiel by surprise yet again.

What in the world was this hunter playing at?


	5. Chapter 5

Dean had been right—Castiel _did_ love supermoons. Usually, he’d bathe naked in the clear emerald pool of a nearby cave only he knew about, drawing magic from the elements to replenish his powers.

But of course, he was trying to convince Dean that he was just an ‘average Joe’ (as humans would say), very much in touch with his human side. That meant no naked baths. Or anything else Dean might consider weird witchy behavior for that matter.

Luckily, mid-afternoon, Dean left the cabin to ‘stretch his legs,’ which gave Castiel the perfect opportunity to exhaust his magic as much as possible. After all, his powers tended to develop a life of their own when confronted with a supermoon, so he had better make sure nothing strange was going on later.

It was just his luck that Dean came back right when he had all of his herbs and potions dancing in the air so that he could clean the shelves (or rather have a piece of cloth do it for him while he was flipping through ‘The Wicca’).

The alpha hadn’t even knocked—he was obviously starting to really feel at home here. He just came in, put down his backpack and said, “Hey, Cas,” ignoring the obvious weird witchy behavior Castiel had planned to avoid in his presence.

With a flick of the hand, the flasks and vials quickly rearranged themselves on the shelves, clinking together slightly in their haste to find their place again.

“Dean!” Castiel said, putting his magazine away, cover down, and trying to come up with a good excuse for why there had been things floating around in his cabin. Humans didn’t make things float, did they? “You should know I usually clean by hand.”

The look Dean shot him was all suspicious hunter.

“Uhm… That’s nice?” he finally ventured. “Anyway, I found us a nice spot for moon watching.”

Hmmmm… Castiel definitely didn’t have Dean figured out. Not in the slightest. But his powers were about to get a nice boost—and with it, maybe another vision would bring more clarity.

⁂

Evening came and Castiel could feel his power levels rising with each breath he took, energizing him and flowing through his entire body.

Even though for all he knew, he might be getting kidnapped by a hunter right now, he got into the car with Dean and let him drive them to the spot he had chosen.

It was on top of a hill overlooking Fairy Valley, and Castiel had to admit that it was a lovely place, so quiet and serene. As the sun was going down, colorful lights were beginning to appear here and there in the valley below, flickering in and out of existence.

Castiel tried to remember if hunters were after fairies, too, but Dean just sat back on the blanket they shared and rummaged around in his backpack.

He finally produced a bottle of wine and two glasses, handing one to Castiel.

Well, if he wanted to get him drunk, he had chosen the wrong drinking partner. Alcohol left him rather unaffected as was usual for his species. It did taste good, though, and while they were waiting for the last rays of sunshine to fade away from the horizon and Dean kept glancing at him, he completely forgot that he should be cautious around the alpha, so he glanced back.

The fluttery feeling of excitement and joy was no doubt due to the moon slowly rising. It had nothing to do with Dean’s pinky nudging against Castiel’s.

They sat like that for a while, their pinky fingers entwined.

“Wow. That _is_ beautiful,” Dean said, looking at the big, round moon with a pink hue when it was visible in all its glory. “I can see why you dig it.”

“I… I don’t know if I ‘dig’ it… I mean, I enjoy it a normal amount…”

“Cas,” Dean interrupted him and waited for Castiel to look at him before he continued, “You don’t have to pretend with me. I don’t care if you use magic to clean your cabin, or if you have some weird ritual where you blow sand in people’s faces. I mean, a little warning would have been nice, but… Point being, I’m glad you’re enjoying this and you don’t have to justify yourself for it, okay?”

That speech was nice and all, but Castiel wasn’t the one pretending here. (Well, maybe a little bit, but not more so than Dean.)

That’s why he replied, “The same goes for you.”

A weird look flitted across Dean’s face then, but the next second, he was leaning back on his elbows, turning his attention to the moon again. Ignoring Castiel’s great opening, he still didn’t admit anything, even though he had been the one to bring up the issue of pretending to be someone you were not.

Castiel closed his eyes, basking in the moonlight and letting it work its magic.

Keeping his eyes closed coincidentally also kept Dean from seeing how the moonlight was affecting him. His eyes tended to glow a bright blue when they were absorbing a supermoon’s power, and despite what Dean had said, he wasn’t sure if the hunter would appreciate seeing him like this.

He only opened them again once he was sure his eyes had returned to their normal color. The scent of relaxed and content alpha wafted over to him, which only left him more confused than ever.

Finally, Castiel cracked. “So, what do you want me to do?” he asked, interrupting his moon bathing to turn to Dean.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “’Scuse me?”

“There has got to be a reason you brought me here,” Castiel pointed out. “I’m all powered-up. Do you want me to make another attempt at lifting the curse?”

“Nah, that’s okay,” Dean waved him off. “Doubt it’d work anyway.”

That should injure his witch pride, but he had other things to worry about, namely getting Dean to reveal the reason they were here.

“Is there anything else you need help with?” he pressed.

“What, suddenly I need a reason to enjoy some alone time with you?” Dean asked, a bit irritated. “This isn’t about how useful you can be to me.”

“What is it about then?”

Instead of replying, Dean leaned over, cupped the back of Castiel’s neck and pulled him into a kiss, all soft and sweet. Castiel’s magic was most likely absorbing another wave of lunar energy because that fluttery feeling inside of him was back.

Dean was kissing him as if that was an answer to his question. Maybe it was.

“Oh. You want to have sex?” Castiel asked once Dean’s lips left his.

The alpha rolled his eyes and kissed him again. This kiss wasn’t any more heated, though, it was still gentle, their lips lightly touching, not exactly the kind of kiss Dean usually used to seduce him into rolling over and presenting.

Right in the middle of the kiss, he could feel the prickling of an oncoming vision, no doubt facilitated by the magical night. He pulled away from Dean and braced himself, expecting to feel pain and fear, once again living through the attack by the hunter.

But instead, he experienced warmth and a sense of security as he was in his bed, together with Dean. He couldn’t see the alpha since he was behind him, but he could smell his scent and he instinctively knew it was him.

Vision Dean was gathering him close, spooning him from behind, cradling him, kissing his neck. And then he started biting at his mating gland. His vision self wasn’t opposed. On the contrary, he bared his throat.

Castiel’s mating gland (the one in the present, not in the future) started pulsing and throbbing pleasantly.

“…you okay?” he heard Dean’s voice, which brought him out of his vision for good. “Thank God, you looked like you were having some kind of seizure. Is the moonlight too much? Should we go back?”

“I’m fine,” Castiel said, even though his heart was racing as he was trying to make sense of how this vision fit together with the one he’d had before.

Obviously, this vision had to happen before Dean would kill him. Or try to kill him. Or maybe it meant that Castiel would be successful in convincing Dean _not_ to kill him?

It had felt like Dean was about to do more than play around a little, more than nibble—but that couldn’t be the case, could it?

One way or another, he had to get to the bottom of this. Armed with this new vision and the knowledge that he couldn’t die before they had spent this moment in bed together (whenever that might be), Castiel decided to put an end to the charade.

He looked Dean straight in the eye and said, as calmly as he could muster, “I know what you are, Dean.”

The alpha blinked at him, clearly taken by surprise.

“Cas…” Dean started, but right then, Castiel felt a presence.

Witches weren’t the only creatures a supermoon lured out into the open.

Guided by the feeling of being watched, Castiel looked past Dean’s shoulder, and there, in the distance, illuminated by the moon, was a woman.

He didn’t know her, but he had seen her before, nevertheless.

This was the woman Dean would kill.


	6. Chapter 6

Castiel’s surprise had to be evident on his face because the next second, Dean was looking over his own shoulder, following his line of sight.

For one long moment, everything slowed down.

Maybe his magic was responsible for that or maybe it just seemed that way, but it didn’t matter anyway because slow motion or not, there was nothing Castiel could do to prevent the inevitable. Dean would see her—whether in a second or in a slowed-down second was irrelevant at this point.

The moment Dean’s eyes had zeroed in on her, time caught up with them all at once. Dean jumped up, faster than Castiel had ever seen him move.

Castiel followed suit, yelling, “RUN!” at the woman.

Supernatural beings had to stick together. He wouldn’t just stand by and watch Dean kill her because of her species.

Dean was just about to go after her with a—was that a _shotgun_? Where had he hidden _that_?!—when Castiel held him back with a powerful shove of magic that made the alpha stumble and look at Castiel incredulously.

His ‘don’t anger the hunter’ approach had gone out the window the moment an innocent person was at risk. Maybe this was what made the dominoes start falling. The final straw that would lead Dean to eventually go after him, too.

But there was no turning back now. With a flick of his wrist, he disarmed Dean while still holding the hunter back with his magic, arm outstretched. No more pretending. This was who he was.

There was a dangerous glint in Dean’s eyes.

“Cas, let go of me!” the alpha ordered, an urgent tone to his voice as he tried to fight against his magic to break free. In vain, of course. Castiel had the supermoon’s power behind him, after all.

Afraid Dean might try using his alpha voice on him to get free, he took Dean’s voice away, too. He could see Dean’s mouth form his name, but no sound came out.

A prickling sensation at the back of his neck made Castiel look back to where the woman had been moments before. She was gone now.

For a second, he thought she had taken his advice and run away. Just to play it safe, he continued to hold Dean back, though, ignoring his soundless screams.

Only she wasn’t gone.

She had materialized out of nowhere a few feet to his right.

“Save yourself! He’s a hunter!” Castiel told her, even though an uneasy feeling was slowly creeping up his spine as he got a better look at her. Her eyes were dark and emotionless. Empty.

Something wasn’t right here.

The woman didn’t say a word. She stretched her hand out towards him, and Castiel was brought to his knees as he felt his magic being pulled out of him.

He could do nothing but scream in agony as his magic drained away, leaving him weak and writhing on the ground. Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he saw Dean fall to his knees as well since Castiel’s magic didn’t have a grip on him anymore.

“Cas!” he heard Dean yell now that he had his voice back. He sounded desperate—why did he sound desperate?

Castiel might have tried to protect the wrong person here. That was his last thought before darkness engulfed him.

⁂

Castiel wasn’t dead. Of course he wasn’t dead—this wasn’t how he was going to die. As his vision had shown him, he would take a witch blade to the chest. Dean hadn’t stabbed him yet, so he had never been in any real danger.

What _was_ surprising was that when he blinked his eyes open, he was back in his cabin. Yes, those were his sigils on the ceiling he was staring at.

How had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered, he had been miles away, having his magic sucked out of him by some strange, unknown force.

“Hey, you’re awake.”

That was Dean’s voice from the left.

Castiel turned his head so that he would be able to see the alpha. Even that simple action took quite some effort. His magic levels that should have been replenished by the supermoon had never been so low.

Dean was sitting on a chair next to his bed, one of Castiel’s witchy magazines open on his lap.

“You look awful,” Castiel informed him.

There were bruises all over his face, he had a split lip, and his shirt was torn up and dirty. He had to have taken quite a beating.

“Yeah, no shit,” Dean said with a snort. “You’re welcome for saving your sorry ass from a crazy killer ghost, by the way.”

“Ghost?” Castiel repeated. Something about that didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t really put his finger on it.

“That’s so not the part of the sentence I wanted you to focus on.”

“So, the… ghost did that to you?” Castiel asked, motioning to Dean’s swollen lip and other abrasions.

“Well, _you_ weren’t exactly a big help,” Dean said. “As a matter of fact, you were the _opposite_ of helpful. What the hell was that whole using your magic against me crap about?”

Dean’s confrontational tone made him want to sit up, but it took him two attempts to get his back propped up against the headboard of the bed, and even then only when Dean grudgingly helped him.

“You _lied_ to me, Dean. From the moment we met. How was I supposed to know that she was a ‘crazy killer ghost’? You hunt people like me for a living!”

“I’m actually not making any money off…” Dean started, but then shook his head. “Not important. I…”

“For sport, then,” Castiel amended, talking right over him.

“That right there,” Dean said, pointing at him. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. I don’t need you to judge me for what I do, and by the way, screw you! I would never kill people like you. I kill _monsters_ , I’m not going after good witches.”

He got up and for a moment, Castiel was afraid he might just walk away. But instead, he leaned closer and… helped him up a bit so that he could fluff his pillow. Castiel only now realized that his neck and back had started to cramp up.

Once Dean sat back down on his chair, he asked, “Are you… afraid of me or something?”

Castiel didn’t know how to answer that. Eventually, he gave the question back, “Should I be?”

Of course he should be, going by his vision. It was hard to be scared of Dean, though, when he had just saved him from having his magic sucked out of him, brought him back to the safety of his cabin and was even fluffing his pillow for him when he thought Castiel might get uncomfortable. It didn’t really spell big, bad hunter alpha.

“ _Jesus_ , no! Is that why you helped me? Out of fear?” Then he went pale. “Oh God, is that why you let me _fuck_ you?”

“No, I didn’t even know,” Castiel said quickly. “I only found out recently.”

Dean’s eyes widened in realization. “That’s why you were trying to keep your witch things from me!” And after a moment probably spent re-evaluating their interactions of the past 24 hours, he added, “‘My great-grandmother was a human,’ seriously? _That’s_ your strategy for keeping hunters off your back?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never _met_ a hunter before,” Castiel defended himself because at the time, that had seemed like an important piece of information that might deter a hunter.

“Man, and I thought you were freaking out about this whole interspecies sex thing.”

They were quiet for a while. Castiel had some re-evaluating to do, too. A hunter with morals. Could such a thing exist? He had only ever heard horror stories growing up. Little witches learned early on that their natural enemies were hunters. They were the most dangerous predators out there.

“So, let me get this straight,” Dean said after some time. “While we were out on a date, _you_ thought I was out to kill you?”

The way Dean had been nothing but nice to him, ignoring multiple perfectly good opportunities to kill him, it did sound rather ridiculous, but—wait.

“Date?”

Dean mumbled something about a clueless witch, and then the conversation turned to his depleted magic levels.

It was going to take a few days for his magic to return to full power. Without Dean, he might not have any magic left at all. That was a scary thought. His magic was a part of him—without it, he didn’t even know who he was.

“She’s still out there,” Dean said with a sigh. “Should’ve been better prepared.”

But he hadn’t been because, apparently, they had been on a date. No ulterior motives, no hunt, just a date…

Something that had been gnawing at the back of his mind, finally took form. “Since when can a ghost steal a witch’s magic?”

And since when could it bleed? She had definitely bled in his vision. He hadn’t been able to make out a lot of details, but _that_ , he had seen.

Dean looked at him as if he was debating whether to say something or not. Finally, he did, “Yeah, about that…”


	7. Chapter 7

“So, turns out I killed her on the autumnal equinox or some shit like that, and now she’s tethered to this realm,” Dean finished his story.

He had joined Castiel on his bed when he had started shivering from magic withdrawal and was now idly stroking his arms, even though Castiel wasn’t cold anymore. He wasn’t about to point that out, though, because this was rather comfortable. Dean seemed to have forgiven him for using his magic against him (and almost getting them killed in the process).

That was good because they really needed to pool their resources together. After all, they were dealing with an evil witch stuck in between the realms, trying to steal enough magical power to rejoin the world of the living. If they wanted to stay one step ahead, they had their work cut out for them.

Still… “How could you _not_ know that witches can’t die on the autumnal equinox? That is the first thing you learn.”

Dean never stopped stroking him as he retorted drily, “Yeah, maybe at Hogwarts.”

Castiel squinted at him in an attempt to silently communicate that he didn’t understand the reference, but instead of providing an explanation, Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, been tracking her ever since,” he went on. “But how do you even kill a witch ghost? Burning her bones didn’t do me any good, and oh yeah—witch-killing bullets go right through her. She isn’t tethered to any _object_ , she’s just… still there.”

Hearing Dean openly talk about hunter things needed some getting used to. Witch-killing bullets, burning bones… But it was still _Dean_ —who was out of his depth, had gotten himself cursed while on a witch hunt, and had only found out about the autumnal equinox the hard way.

Dean’s eyebrows drew together. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Shrugging with one shoulder (the one that wasn’t pressed up against Dean), Castiel said, “I just imagined hunters to be different.”

“Yeah? Different how?”

Castiel inclined his head. “More competent, mostly.”

The stroking stopped. “Oh, fuck you! I’m plenty competent.”

Oh, it seemed like he had unintentionally injured Dean’s hunter pride.

Before he could offer his apologies, Dean already continued, “I think I liked you better when you were afraid of me.”

The way he had reacted when he had found out that Castiel had been cautious in his presence betrayed his lie, though, so Castiel corrected him, “No, you didn’t.”

Just to make sure Dean wasn’t mad at him for questioning his tactics, he added, “I didn’t mean to insult your skills as a hunter. I merely meant that you do not fit the picture of the evil hunter out to get little witches.”

Dean’s confused frown told him that he didn’t understand what he was talking about, so he began reciting the nursery rhyme in the exact singsong voice his mother had always used, “ _They know all your secrets, they know when you lie…_ ”

“Sounds like Santa Clause,” Dean interjected, but Castiel ignored him.

“ _…so run away quickly or else you will die._ ”

“Wow that’s… morbid. What kind of things do they teach little witches these days? No wonder you were all freaked out.”

“Oh no, that was because of the vision.”

“The what now?”

Right. Dean didn’t know about that yet. It seemed like it was Castiel’s turn to clue Dean in to some things…

⁂

Naturally, Dean was appalled and promised that he would never stab Castiel with a witch blade. Or any other blade, really.

“So, wait, if you saw me kill _her_ , that means we figure this out, right?” Dean finally focused on another aspect after reassuring him that he would never hurt an innocent witch.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He couldn’t really trust his visions anymore, now that he was convinced Dean meant him no harm. “If we can prevent the vision of you stabbing me from coming true, who says that the other one won’t be changed, too?”

That’s when Dean went into hunter mode, interrogating him about specifics of his vision—where had it taken place, what time of day was it, what exactly had he seen… As if Castiel hadn’t asked himself these exact same questions.

Dean even tried to help trigger another vision. Since Castiel didn’t have to be sneaky about it anymore but actually had Dean’s help, it should have been easier. But with his magic levels so low, of course, nothing happened.

He realized the full extent of how much being robbed of his magic sucked when he had regained enough energy to get out of bed, but couldn’t use magic to do simple tasks like brewing coffee or heating the water for a shower. Checking his magic levels, he tried conjuring up a ball of light in his palm, but all he got was a slight flicker.

When he couldn’t even reinforce the wards properly, Dean said, “You’re coming home with me.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re sitting ducks here! If your wards fail, there’s nothing between us and that psycho witch. My place is warded against all kinds of evil. I’m taking you there until your powers are back. Or until I know how to gank her.”

In typical alpha fashion, he said it in a tone of voice that didn’t allow for any argument.

So, of course, Castiel protested, “I can’t just drop everything and leave.”

But then Dean mentioned a library full of old witch books, and, well… Who could say no to that? He hadn’t taken time off from his witch duties in years. A few days to recuperate while exploring a witch library was just what he needed.

When they were already on the road, Dean revealed that he lived in an underground bunker together with his brother. So, apparently, Castiel was on the way to meet the family of his… hunter he occasionally slept with (for scientific purposes).

If his mother knew he was staying with two hunters, she would turn in her grave. But the way Dean was talking about Sam, it seemed like he was one of the good guys, too. The old nursery rhyme was clearly wrong.

⁂

Dean hadn’t exaggerated. Castiel could feel the bunker’s magic from a mile away, and the second they entered it, he knew they would be safe here.

As for Sam—he was as non-threatening as you could imagine a hunter to be, apart from the fact that he was very tall. And an alpha. Dean’s description of him as a ‘harmless moose’ suddenly made sense.

By way of greeting, he pulled Castiel into a surprise hug and said something about how nice it was to finally meet the witch his brother was so hung up on, which earned him a grumbled “Shut up” from Dean.

“I told you witch-killing bullets wouldn’t work on a witch ghost,” Sam said, and then they were off discussing the case.

“Dean mentioned a library?” Castiel finally asked when his curiosity got the better of him, and that’s when the brothers decided to give him the tour of the bunker.

The library really was impressive, and Castiel was allowed to touch even the most valuable and rare items. Sam had used the library for research purposes, trying to find out how to deal with their evil witch turned ghost. Without any success, so far. So, Castiel offered to help with the research, and just like that, he was part of their little hunter group—at least as far as this case was concerned.

A witch who was also a hunter… it sounded crazy.

When Castiel and Sam started flipping through books, Dean mumbled something about geeks, but he joined them, too, and when Castiel got really excited about a huge tome with very rare healing spells, he told him to _keep it_. As if it was no big deal.

Sam gave Dean a funny look, then. Maybe he wasn’t okay with just giving away priceless books from their collection, so Castiel quickly said, “I couldn’t possibly accept that,” and put it away again.

When it got late and they still hadn’t found any useful information, Dean suggested they turn in for the night.

“You can bunk with me,” he offered graciously.

Sam mumbled something that sounded like “I bet” and then promptly tripped over Dean’s foot while getting up.

Castiel perked up. “Maybe we can see about that curse you’re under,” he suggested because now that he only had bits and pieces of magic left, he was curious to see if it changed things. (And also, he really wanted to get fucked again. Maybe Dean would do him slow and deep and kiss him lots.)

Sam shot Dean another funny look. “Didn’t you say…” he started to say, but then Dean accidentally dropped the book he’d just wanted to put away right onto Sam’s foot.

His feet certainly seemed to be having a bad day.

“Oops,” Dean said, but he didn’t sound particularly apologetic.

“Jerk,” Sam mumbled while picking up the book.

“Goodnight, bitch,” Dean said and with that, he took Castiel’s hand and led him out of the library.

Alpha-alpha interactions were very confusing. Or maybe that was all Dean and Sam…


	8. Chapter 8

“I thought we could—” Castiel started upon entering Dean’s room, but the alpha was already on him, pushing him against the wall and licking into his mouth with a dangerous kind of hunger that made Castiel’s skin tingle and his heart race.

Seemed like he got his wish to be kissed breathless. This approach worked just fine with what he’d had in mind, so he let Dean’s tongue invade his mouth and play with his tongue.

While Dean was distracted trying to control the kiss, Castiel let his hand travel to the front of the alpha’s jeans, just teasing a bit by grazing the hard outline of his cock pressing against his pants.

Dean let out an impatient growl, still keeping him pinned against the wall, crowding against him, and Castiel began to stroke him down there, rubbing between his legs.

The alpha’s enormous length stiffened, and Castiel upped the ante, popping the button of his fly open and sliding his hand down the front of Dean’s pants.

Yes, that was one horny alpha erection, ready for a nice ass fuck. Castiel’s hole started slicking in anticipation.

Palming the alpha’s erection, Castiel had to conclude that the curse didn’t seem to affect Dean, who let out a sexy grunt and uttered, “Fuck!” low and breathy, when Castiel swept his thumb across the sensitive tip of his cock.

Everyone knew that teasing an alpha too much got you into trouble, and so it didn’t take long before Dean flipped him around, and before he really knew what was happening, Castiel had his pants around his ankles and Dean was fucking him against the wall.

For the second round, they relocated to Dean’s bed, got rid of the rest of their clothes, and it was much more tender now that the edge had been taken off. Castiel was on his back and they kept looking deep into each other’s eyes as Dean was penetrating him in long, deep strokes, his hands sliding all over Castiel’s naked skin, almost reverently.

Then Dean leaned down, held him close, and started nibbling at his neck, all the while sliding in and out of his ass in a slow motion. The way he kept inching ever closer to his mating gland with his lips reminded him of his vision, save for the fact that Dean wasn’t behind, but on top of him, and just like in his vision, he bared his throat in invitation.

When they came together for the second time that night, it was with a mixture of possessive urges and a sense of belonging. Dean knotted him this time and continued kissing him long after he had climaxed inside of him.

That had been an unexpected, but pleasant outcome. He had half expected there to be some kind of problem that would make it impossible for Dean to fuck him. Well—that ruled out his magic as the reason why Dean could only have sex with him.

After the cleanup, when they were snuggling in bed, Castiel was still contemplating how Dean could have come inside of him so easily—twice.

“Should I inspect your penis to look for traces of the curse?” Castiel offered because lately, they had only ever had sex, but he had made no other attempt to help break the curse. And while all the sex had been great, he wanted Dean to sleep with him because he _wanted to_ , not because he had no other options.

Maybe once the curse was broken, he could try to seduce Dean and they could continue sleeping together for… not-scientific reasons.

But Dean thwarted his plans with a simple, “No,” and a kiss that almost managed to distract Castiel from what he had planned to talk about.

“I know I haven’t been very helpful so far, but I could…”

“Was it not good for you?” There was a strange edge to Dean’s tone.

“Of course it was.” That much should have been obvious from the way he had begged for Dean to fuck him deeper. His powerful orgasms might have been a clue as well.

“Well then, if it was good for you, and it was good for me, I don’t see the problem.”

“When you first came to me, you were very particular about getting the curse lifted,” Castiel reminded him.

“Yeah, well. Things change.”

And that was the end of that discussion.

But now that Castiel was actively looking and scenting for it (albeit stealthily), he couldn’t find any trace of the curse. The magical markers he had picked up on that first time he had examined Dean were nowhere to be found. For all intents and purposes, this alpha seemed completely curse-free.

It might have been a curse with an expiration date. Dean might not have tried to masturbate or get off with another omega in a while and thus simply hadn’t realized that the curse was over and done with.

Well, no need for Castiel to tell him just yet. He could practice his seduction techniques a bit more first so that he could be sure Dean wouldn’t run off to sleep with tons of other omegas the second he realized he could.

Problem was, Castiel wasn’t the best at flirting because it required subtlety, wordplay, and specific facial expressions he didn’t understand. But he had to be getting better at it because, over the next few days, he managed to get Dean into bed with him whenever he wanted to.

Maybe seducing alphas wasn’t so difficult after all.

“Sex?” he would ask with a raised eyebrow, ignoring the choking sounds coming from Sam, who was sitting at the dinner table with them.

And Dean would grin at him and say, “Sure.”

Yes, Castiel definitely had the subtleties and intricacies of flirting all figured out. He might just tell Dean he was curse-free one of these days. The thought of Dean celebrating by finding another omega to fuck made him keep his knowledge to himself, though, for just a little bit longer…

When he wasn’t busy getting Dean to kiss him and… do stuff to him, they were spending a lot of time in the library. There were so many books to explore that Castiel could stay there perusing them for hours.

He even tried a few spells, but without his magic, all he could rely on were instructions and ingredients, which made everything so much harder.

It was while they were sitting around the map table strategizing that Castiel found out that he still had his sixth witch sense, at least, which was how he knew Justin was coming before the pecking at the door started.

“What the hell?” In typical hunter fashion, Dean was reaching for his weapon, but Castiel held him back.

“That’s Justin McCaw. He’s here to deliver a message.”

He probably shouldn’t have left for multiple days without an explanation. While he had warned Hannah about the power-sucking ghost, he hadn’t wanted to mention that he’d be staying with Dean. After all, his supernatural friends might not believe him that Dean was no danger to him.

Since he had been rather distracted and had forgotten to get in touch, it was no wonder they were trying to track him down, which was why he hurried up the stairs while Dean and Sam remained at the bottom.

As soon as he opened the door, Justin came flying in, a tightly rolled piece of paper tied to his leg. He landed on the railing, and Castiel freed him of the message he was delivering.

“I thought you didn’t use ravens,” Dean said from below, distracting Castiel from unrolling the piece of paper.

“Justin’s a crow, not a raven,” Castiel corrected him as he came down the stairs to join them. “And I said _I_ don’t use them. Hannah does.”

Justin, meanwhile, seemed to have taken a liking to Dean. He had flown down, landed on the alpha’s shoulder, and was currently pecking at his ear, much to Dean’s dismay. “Okay, seriously, knock it off!”

“He’s waiting for a treat,” Castiel informed him because as much fun as it was watching Dean try to fend off Justin, he had to help the hunter out. He had probably never used a crow to deliver a message before, and thus didn’t know the customs.

“Sorry, we’re all out of worms,” Dean said drily.

“That’s okay. He’s a vegetarian. Just give him some seeds.”

“Yeah, all out of those, too.” Dean tried to shoo him away, but of course, Justin wasn’t so easily deterred.

Luckily, Sam was a bit more cooperative. “I’ll see what I can find,” he said and went towards the kitchen. Justin, sensing that he was the one to follow, finally left Dean alone to fly after Sam.

“So—what’s the message say?” Dean nodded towards the paper, so Castiel read it to him, even though he probably couldn’t understand the language.

Oh. That almost sounded like—

“It’s a summoning spell,” he told Dean.

“What’re you trying to summon?”

“Nothing.” It had already started. Castiel could feel the prickling sensation spread throughout his body. “I’m being summoned.”

Dean’s eyes widened in alarm. “What the…. Where? Why?”

But before Castiel could give an answer, the spell was pulling him away into the unknown.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked the chapter, I hope to hear from you in the comment section! ❤️


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